


season of love

by kitsunerei88



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, The Great British Bake Off RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, F/M, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunerei88/pseuds/kitsunerei88
Summary: Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley are competitors on the Great British Bake-Off. Over ten episodes, and between interfering family members and roommates, desserts that no one has heard of, and the stress of competition, can these two find something more?Or: A Great British Bake-Off/Pride & Prejudice fusion, told in twenty vignettes.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 147
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	season of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tablelamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/gifts).



**I. Biscuits**

“I—” The voice was soft, filled with shock. “I mean—yes. Yes, of course. I’ll—I’ll look forward to it.”

Lizzie looked up from her laptop to see her sister standing in the kitchen, her mouth open in an “o” of surprise. Her phone was in her hand, the screen dark and now covered in a thin film of flour.

“What is it?”

Jane didn’t reply, and Lizzie knew that whatever it was, it was serious. She closed the lid of her laptop—her essay could wait. “Jane?”

“The Great British Bake Off,” Jane replied, looking up, her expression caught somewhere between shock, joy, and terror. “I made it. I made it on. I—”

The phone screen lit up again, an incoming email this time, one that Jane quickly opened and flipped through. “The confirmation.”

Lizzie felt her own eyes widen as she stood up, reaching over to grab Jane’s phone from her hand. “Wait, really? Let me see!”

“I don’t—I never expected—”

The email and its attachments didn’t lie. Jane Bennet was one of the dozen competitors picked to compete in the upcoming season of The Great British Bake Off, and Lizzie knew that she was just going to kill it. There was no other way, because Jane was the best baker that Lizzie knew, and she had, through university and two years of graduate school, eaten rather a lot of baked goods. No one matched up to Jane Bennet in the kitchen.

“You’re going to win it,” Lizzie said, a smile spreading already over her face. “You are. This is it, this is the perfect break! You’ve always wanted to bake professionally instead of working in an office!”

“It’s not so easy as that, Lizzie,” Jane deflected, waving her hands in mixed worry and panic. “There are eleven other bakers, and we’ve seen what the challenges look like—”

“But I know you,” Lizzie replied, her mind already whirling with ideas. “And you’re going to win, because I’ll be behind you the entire way. We’ll strategize—the Signature dishes, the Showstoppers, and if you need any moral support—”

“And you’ll taste-test, right?” Jane’s smile was weak, but at least it was there.

“Taste-testing goes without saying,” Lizzie agreed, flipping the page. “Week one is biscuits. What do we do with biscuits?

* * *

_The white marquee tents are immediately recognizable. The larger of the two tents, the competition space, is open on two sides to let in both the light and the sight of the flourishing green lawns; the smaller we know to be the judging tent, where Paul and Prue will be judging the competitors’ creations._

_The inside is homey, painted in soft, pastel colours. Even the equipment, from stand-mixers to scales, come in pale blues, greens, and yellows. Small triangular Union Jacks hang around the interior of the tent, reminding all the competitors that they are on the Great British Bake Off. Twelve stations line the inside of the tent, arranged in two columns of six. Whatever else might be happening in this tent, we believe it to be warm and welcoming, with only the actions of the competitors to show us how stressful the competition really must be._

_This early in the show, we can never really tell apart any of the competitors yet, and the producers know it. Instead, they cut the footage to focus on the competitors that will go far._

_There is a woman of about twenty-four or twenty-five, her blonde hair carefully braided out of her face in a crown. Her smile is shy, but a warmth shines from her face. Behind her is a man, around the same age, who can’t keep his eyes off of her._

_Her name is Jane, she says with a gentle smile. She’s a project manager, but her life is about her family. She has four younger sisters, a big family for these times, and there is always a need for biscuits._

**II. Cakes**

Darcy paced the front hallway of the townhouse that he shared with his best friend, his eyes glancing towards the clock every now and then. Berkshire wasn’t far from London, and no doubt Charles was simply caught in traffic, because god forbid that the Great British Bake Off be filmed in a place easily accessible by train. This was the first weekend, the first three-day challenge, and he wanted to know how his friend had done.

It was an hour later before his friend finally showed up—an hour of pacing, then an attempt at working by staring at spreadsheets of numbers that all blurred together. Then an attempt at leisure reading, the latest _The Economist_ , which failed miserably because he found himself reading the same paragraphs over and over again. When the door cracked open, Darcy was all too happy to throw the magazine onto the coffee table.

“So?” he demanded.

“I think—” Charles paused, a very silly look coming across his face.

Darcy stared.

“I think I’m in love,” Charles declared.

* * *

_The second episode is still too early in the season for most of the viewers to recognize most of the competitors—or, maybe, it’s that we recognize them but we don’t associate names and identities to most of them yet. We know Jane Bennet, because her story about her sisters and her lavender biscuits sticks in our minds, even if she didn’t win Star Baker last week._

_This week, the focus is on the man behind her. His hair is shorn short enough that we can’t tell for certain what colour it is, but we think it’s probably a dark blonde. He isn’t handsome, or at least not conventionally so—his eyes are close-set, his nose a little too prominent, but his grin is infectious._

_His name is Dr. Charles Bingley. He works at St. Bart’s in London, which tells us that he is a very good doctor. He bakes as stress relief, and he loves to cheer up his friends and family with surprise cakes for any and every occasion._

_He wins Star Baker for his elegant, sprinkled layer cake—a plain vanilla alternating with an almond layer, and perfectly executed._

**III. Pies**

“And my cake just _collapsed,_ Lizzie!” Jane sobbed into a container of ice cream. “Just fell right over, right when it got to the presentation table! I don’t know how it happened—it was a bit lopsided, but it shouldn’t have _collapsed_.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lizzie declared, waving a hand vociferously. “You made it through, and you were third on the Battenberg cake and even Paul said your salted caramel cupcakes were brilliant, didn’t he? Let’s move on—a new week, a new you! What is it this week?”

“Pies.” Jane sniffed. “The Signature is supposed to be a meal pie, and the showstopper is a meringue. I’ve only done a meringue pie three times before!”

“But it was delicious,” Lizzie replied, a smile spreading across her face. “I ate that lemon meringue pie, and it was _delicious_. And meal pies? Make the one you make around Christmas, with the mix of the beef and pork with onions and celery. It has a story with it, and the Signatures with stories always go over well. We’ll even borrow the nice holiday platter for it from home, to tie it all together.”

Jane sniffed again, taking a deep, calming breath. “You’re right, Lizzie. All right. I’ll practice pies this week, then.”

Lizzie Bennet brought a key lime meringue, a passionfruit meringue, and a lemon meringue with her to the office that week. Meat pies were also delivered to Mary in her dorms at Oxford, and to Kitty, Lydia, and their parents in Birmingham.

There was also an extra meat pie for Charles Bingley. Because, when he learned that they both lived in London, he insisted in driving Jane with him to and from Berkshire.

* * *

_The judging tent is dominated by a plain wooden table, covered in the best meringue pies of the night. We, the viewers, can recognize the pies made by Jane and Charles—Jane’s is the simpler one in design, almost too simple to be a Showstopper, while Charles’ is artfully covered in whorls._

_“So?” Sandi asks, looking between Paul and Prue. “Who are you thinking of for Star Baker this week?”_

_“Charles is certainly up there,” Paul replies thoughtfully, looking at the whorls covering Charles’ meringue pie. “He very technical in his baking—it’s hard to find any flaws in anything he’s done.”_

_“But it tastes like it comes from a book—he’s very good, but he doesn’t have much creativity,” Prue adds, shifting Jane’s pie into greater prominence. “Jane's pie isn’t as beautiful or as technical, but it has a creative flair that Charles just can’t match. She also cooks from the heart—her Signature dish was simply sublime.”_

_“It really did taste like a holiday meal,” Paul agrees. “One bite, and I was there at their dinner table at the holidays with her family. Absolutely stunning.”_

_“Do we know who the Star Baker is?” Noel asks brightly, leaning forward. We know, from many seasons of this show, that he will be the one to announce Star Baker this week, while Sandi announces who goes home. They alternate, because it wouldn’t be fair for one of them to be the axeman all the time._

_“I think we do,” Prue says with a nod, and it cuts to commercial._

**IV. Bread**

“It’s _bread week_ next week.” Charles slammed the bottle of beer onto the kitchen table—a greater sign of stress than Darcy had seen from his best friend in a long time. “I’m terrible at bread!”

“And Jane Bennet is going to be very good at bread, isn’t she?” Darcy mused. “She has the _I bake for my family and bread is a necessity_ air to her, from what you’ve said.”

“In the car ride back, she told me about her sourdough starter,” Charles replied flatly. “It’s been in her family for thirty years, it’s older than she is. I don’t even _have_ a sourdough starter!”

“But you have more experience,” Darcy replied, his voice conclusive. “Play to your strengths. For the Signature and Showstoppers, we’ll plan something technical and difficult, and the judges won’t fail to notice it. You did that povitica about a year ago for Fitz’s birthday, so let’s do that again.”

There was a pause, then Charles sighed and nodded. “I’m still in, so that’s something. And you know…”

He trailed off, thoughtful. Darcy narrowed his eyes. “Not this again, Charles. You are _not_ in love. Don’t you remember what happened last time? Or the time before that? Love at first sight is not real!”

Charles shrugged helplessly. “I was just going to say, if I lost, I’d want Jane to win.”

* * *

_The bread sculptures are huge, laid out in massive platters. Jane has spent the entirety of her time for the Showstopper building complicated challah knots, which she is now arranging to make a massive tree of life. It’s huge, it’s stunning, and we the viewers have no idea how she’s going to carry it to the front of the room._

_Meanwhile, behind her, Charles is constructing a king crab in bread. There are seeds dotting the back, creating the ridged texture of the carapace, and the end result is equal parts impressive and terrifying. Somehow, Charles has managed to infuse the sheer strangeness of crabs into his bread sculpture._

_On judging, we raise our eyebrows as Charles hurries forward to help Jane carry her platter to the judging table._

**V. Desserts**

“Two in a row, two in a row!” Lizzie crowed, delighted, while Jane blushed through a massive smile. “We’re on a roll!”

“I don’t think it’ll last,” Jane replied, waving a hand with embarrassment. “Next week is desserts, and Charles is just—he’s good at the technical things. I’m just a home baker, Lizzie, how can I compete with someone who seems like he’s eaten everything? He made a _povitica_ last week for his signature—I didn’t even know what a povitica was!”

Lizzie poked at the loaf of bread in front of them—an extra loaf, Charles had said when he dropped Jane off at their flat. “Well, it doesn’t look that impressive…”

“Cut it open, Lizzie—it’s _art_ on the inside, I swear.” Jane sighed. “It’s just going to get harder from here.”

Lizzie stood up, reaching for the drawer that held the knives and sliced two slices of the loaf in front of them. Just as Jane had said, cutting the bread revealed beautiful circles of chocolate and walnut, but Lizzie didn’t care about that. The bread might be pretty, but Jane had still walked with Star Baker last week, so clearly taste was more important. “One week at a time, Jane. What’s the Signature and Showstopper next week?”

“Trifles and petit-fours.” Jane took a bite of her slice of povitica. “Two kinds of petit-fours.”

“Petit-fours?”

"Like a miniature cake,” Jane explained, her eyes wide as she stared at her slice of bread. “This is _delicious_.”

“Competition,” Lizzie reminded her sharply. “Remember, he’s the _competition,_ Jane!”

Jane took another bite of the povitica. “But he’s very nice.”

* * *

_Jane stares at the instructions in front of her, and from the expression on her face, we all know that she has_ no idea _what she’s going to do. The technical is oeufs à la neige; we the viewers wouldn’t know what it was either, if it weren’t for the explanation Paul and Prue have given us at a table outside the tent. They’re small scooped balls of meringue, poached on a stovetop and floating on a sea of crème anglaise. It’s the kind of dessert that most people haven’t even heard of, let alone seen._

_Of the eight bakers left, only Charles seems to have a grasp of it. He skims the recipe, which we know from many seasons usually leaves out steps or includes such useful directions such as “make a crème anglaise”, and quickly gets started. A few of the other bakers start to imitate him, because what else is there to do?_

_The unusual part is when Charles looks up to see that Jane hasn’t started. Jane is still staring open-mouthed at the directions, and we know that she needs to get started as soon as possible or she won’t finish._

_Charles hesitates a moment, and then he ducks out from behind his station to come to her side. He grabs a pencil, and we can see him explaining the dessert to her. It’s only a few minutes out of the two hours they have to make the dessert, but it seems far longer in the format of a one-hour television show._

**VI. International Week**

“And you did _what?”_ Darcy almost choked on the mouthful of beer that had just made it into his mouth. “You—you went over and _helped_ her?”

“No—well, not really?” Charles spread his hands. “But Jane obviously hadn’t heard of them before, so I went over and just explained the dessert to her.”

“You _do_ realize that this is a competition, right?” Darcy asked, narrowing his eyes. Charles really was too good for himself. “Don’t let that family-oriented home-baker attitude fool you—Jane is one of your biggest competitors. She’s won Star Baker twice.”

“But I won it this week, so it didn’t make a difference,” Charles replied, shaking his head. “It’s not really a competition anyway unless everyone is on an even footing, right?”

Darcy sighed—there was no arguing with Charles when it came to things like this. He was incorrigibly fair-minded. “What’s next, then?”

“International Week.” Charles’ voice was grim. “God knows what they’ll throw at us for the technical, I can’t possibly research every international dessert over the next week, but the Signature is hand pies and the Showstopper is a diorama made of Italian biscuits. At least three kinds.”

“A _diorama_ ,” Darcy repeated. “Like—in primary school.”

“Yes, except made out of Italian cookies.”

“That is—” Darcy shook his head. “Well, let’s plan an incredible diorama then, because hand pies are very homey and Jane Bennet probably has a recipe for Cornish pasties that has been passed down in her family for eighteen generations.”

* * *

_“Do you think, Noel, that we might have situation developing here?” Sandi asks, standing at the front of the tent. The seven remaining bakers are already hard at work at the technical challenge, and most of them have a bit of a lost expression on their faces. Considering the technical is daifuku mochi and most of them haven’t worked with rice flour before, this is not entirely surprising._

_The surprising part is how often Jane and Charles seem to be putting their heads together. We know that it can’t be as often as the television show makes it out to be, and it probably isn’t even more than three times in the hour they have to make the round, sticky desserts, but it always seems longer when they splice it together the way they do. It isn’t even that they aren’t talking to or helping other bakers, because there are cuts of them talking to other people too, but the scenes of Jane and Charles head-to-head are the most prominent._

_“A situation?” Noel echoes, looking around the tent. “What do you mean?”_

_“Don’t you think there might be love in the air? The oeufs à la neige last week, then these…” Sandi motions her head towards Jane and Charles._

_Noel blinks. “Well… there wouldn’t be any rules against it, would there?”_

**VII. Chocolate**

“I don’t even _like_ these,” Lizzie said, chewing on one of the leftover daifuku mochi that Jane had brought home. These weren’t the prettiest ones, only the ones that Jane had decided weren’t good enough to put up to be judged. “You could almost choke on them, couldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they’re very representative of mochi,” Jane replied with an embarrassed smile. “I came in fifth on them.”

“What about Charles?”

“Fourth.” Jane let out a small laugh. “But you should have seen his Italian biscuit diorama, Lizzie! He made St. George and the dragon! It was so beautiful, I wish I had thought to take a picture. I didn’t even want to eat it!”

Lizzie frowned at her sister. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of baking? I mean, if it’s so beautiful that you don’t want to eat it…”

Jane sighed, ignoring her. “But it was so beautiful. I wish I could make beautiful pastries. He’s very kind, you know, Charles.”

* * *

_#Jingley is trending on Twitter._

_It seems like Sandi and Noel’s comments in the last episode are having an effect. Someone has made a compilation of every Jane and Charles moment in the last six episodes, and the cameras seem to follow Jane and Charles a little closer than usual this episode. Everyone likes the idea of Jane Bennet, sweet girl next door who likes to bake for her family, being with Dr. Charles Bingley, the doctor and pastry hobbyist._

_It’s chocolate this week, and the camera zooms in when Jane turns around and offers Charles a taste of one of her extra chocolate tarts. He accepts, and somehow the expression on his face looks happier than an extra chocolate tart should really warrant._

**VIII. Pastries (Quarter-Finals)**

“I hope you know, Charles, that I gained _six pounds_ last week eating your chocolate experiments,” Darcy said, watching as his roommate pulled out yet another chocolate tart and slid it onto their kitchen table. “Chocolate week is over. What’s that?”

“One of Jane’s extras,” Charles muttered. “I gave her one of my extras too, so a fair trade all around, I think.”

Darcy frowned, eyeing his friend cautiously. “You _do_ realize she’s your competition, right?”

“Yes, but she’s really very nice,” Charles replied, rummaging around in a drawer for a knife. “And her desserts always taste—I don’t know. There’s something about them that just draws me in. The flavour that she manages to pack in is just incredible.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow and reached to cut off a small slice of the chocolate tart for himself.

It tasted good. But Darcy wasn’t sure it was as incredible as Charles had made it out to be.

* * *

_At the quarter-final, there are only five bakers left, and the tent looks empty compared to previous episodes. By now, the viewers know everyone who is left—there’s Jane and Charles, of course, but there’s also Nadia, a full-time mom from Glasgow, Chris, a schoolteacher from Manchester, and Doug, a solicitor from Cardiff. At this point, it’s really anyone’s game._

_Pastries are hard, and the technical challenge of a St-Honoré cake, including choux pastry, crème patisserie, and decorated in chocolate, is enough to make an accomplished pastry chef cry. Nonetheless, all five of the bakers seem to be well on their way._

_“How are you coming along?” Sandi asks, stopping by Jane’s station, where she is kneeling and staring into the depths of her oven._

_“Oh, you know,” Jane smiles sheepishly. “Just praying to the pastry gods.”_

_“Not your forte, pastry, is it?”_

_Jane shrugs, looking back into the oven. “I’ve been practicing this week. I knew that choux pastry would come up, it always does, just like puff pastry. And my sister Lizzie’s brought home a few different desserts recently for me to try, too.”_

_Sandi’s eyes slide to the bench behind Jane’s. “Are you worried about Charles?”_

_“Worried?” Jane laughs. “I’m not sure what you mean. Charles is such a good technical baker, I’m always so impressed by what he manages to put together. I don’t think I have anything to worry about for him!”_

_“It is a competition, Jane,” Sandi replies with a bright smile made for television. “Aren't you worried about him eliminating you?”_

_Jane’s worried smile melts away, replaced by an expression of almost surprise. “Well, I suppose so,” she says, as if she’s never really considered it that way. “But it’s a fair competition, and we all come in with our strengths, so I’d never consider it like that. If I’m eliminated, it’s because I didn’t bake as well as he did, and that’s fine. I don’t know. Charles is very kind, and if he wins, I don’t begrudge him it. Right?”_

_The camera flips to Charles’ face, which is turning bright red._

**IX. French Patisserie (Semi-Final)**

“I didn’t expect to make it this far.” Jane sat at the kitchen table, a book of French patisserie in front of her as she skimmed through a hundred pages of detailed recipes. “I just—Lizzie, I make cookies, and cakes, and pies, and bread. I’m a _home baker_ , not a pastry chef!”

“But you _could_ be a pastry chef,” Lizzie replies, tucking into one of the trays of puff-pastry canapés that Jane has been producing for the last week. Puff pastry everything, because puff pastry always came up somewhere. And here it was! A tray of twenty-four puff pastry canapés for a Signature, then an Opera cake for a Showstopper. “Though, you’re right, it is rather off-brand for us.”

“No one eats puff pastry canapés as a meal,” Jane muttered, flipping through her book. “The technical—I can’t even imagine what they’ll ask for, I don’t know anything, I’m never making the final.”

“Not if you think like that!” Lizzie waved the canapé she was eating, one filled with pears and Stilton blue cheese. “These are _amazing_. I would kill for another one.”

“There’s another dozen cooling in the oven.” Jane waved her hand in that general direction. “I can’t survive French Patisserie. I just don’t know enough! But at least—at least—”

“At least _what_ , Jane?”

“At least Charles is pretty much guaranteed to make it through,” Jane says, and her cheeks turn pink.

* * *

_“This is the last Star Baker award before the finale,” Sandi says in the judging tent, and we’re all at the edges of our seats, waiting for the analysis. Two out of three of Jane’s canapés have gone over well, her pear and blue cheese and her mini beef wellington, and at least two of the others have done worse, but she came in dead last on the technical challenge. It all comes down to the Showstopper. “Who are we looking at?”_

_“With something as technical as French patisserie, we all know that Charles is a very strong contender,” Paul says, and he’s only echoing what we all know by now. “His flavours have sometimes been hit or miss, but they worked well today.”_

_“Chris, too, was a surprise this week,” Prue adds. “His Opera cake was well constructed, with all the layers clearly defined. His Charlotte Royale set very well, too.”_

_“So, it’s safe to say that it’s Jane and Doug in danger?” Noel prods. It’s all very scripted, the judging process, but GBBO fans are well used to this._

_“At this stage, it’s always hard,” Prue says, examining the Opera cakes on the table in front of her again. “Jane always brings the flavour—if she hadn’t left fingerprints on the top and trimmed the sides, it would have been fine. Doug missed a layer though, so his flavouring is off, and the text at the top is rather messy.”_

_“Do you think you know who will be going onto the final, then?” Sandi asks eagerly, leaning forward in her seat._

_“It’s a hard decision, Sandi,” Paul replies, but he’s nodding. “But we think so.”_

**X. Finale**

_The lawns are packed with friends and family—a hundred people, from everyone eliminated and their families, to the families of the finalists. Jane’s entire family is there, her parents and four sisters, and a tall, dark-haired woman with a pert nose seems to be desperately trying to keep them from gawking too much at the manor in the background. Another of her sisters, dark-haired and thin, already has her nose buried in a book, but her mother and two youngest sisters seem ready to storm the famous GBBO tent, if not the manor. Their father is watching with an amused expression._

_Close to them and watching with a perplexed expression is a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a naturally stern expression. He isn’t entirely sure what to make of such a rambunctious family, so much is clear, and he seems almost lost in a sea of people._

_People are already laying out blankets and baskets to wait. Inside, the finalists are sweating over their final Showstoppers, a three-tiered wedding cake._

_Jane’s cake is a princess’ dream. It is white but covered in piped pink frosting ribbons and white chocolate pearls. The second and third layers are decorated to look like cushions, while the top one shines like a crown. It’s beautiful._

_Charles has gone in almost the opposite direction. He’s taking the unorthodox approach of not frosting the sides of his cake, the best to show off the trim layers of his layer cake. The judges don’t like it, and his shrug when he brings the top tier of his cake outside is helpless._

_“It was worth the gamble,” he says with a smile, taking his friend by the arm and dragging him over to meet Jane Bennet._

_When the judges finally come out to announce the winner, somehow no one is upset when it’s Chris, whose Shakespeare-inspired Romeo and Juliet wedding cake wins him GBBO. Indeed, Jane and Charles both reach him quickly to exchange a hug, and while the camera would normally follow Chris as he talks about the meaning of the win to him, it doesn’t._

_Instead, it follows Charles as he meanders across the lawn, back to where Jane Bennet is already laughing with her sisters. He slings one arm over her shoulder and his head dips close to her ear to whisper something, and she laughs._

* * *

“I feel bad for Chris,” Charles said, frowning at the television with his other arm around Jane’s shoulders. “He was the winner, and we rather stole his thunder.”

“He doesn’t mind, though.” Jane laughed, handing him another canapé. “He really doesn’t. He thinks we’re cute!”

“There’s so much sugar floating around the two of you, it’s accumulating on my waistline,” Lizzie complained darkly, even as she reached for the tray of canapés. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds since the two of you started dating.”

Darcy looked down at his own waistline with a grimace. “At least for you, my dear, it doesn’t show.”

**_Fin_ **

**Author's Note:**

> tablelamp: I hope you enjoyed! I went rather experimental on this with the structure, as well as the points of view, but overall I hope it worked? I adore GBBO, so I'm glad to have had a chance to try my hand at a Pride & Prejudice with GBBO mashup!


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